


Love Confessions

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: #SPNDBCC [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Day 8, Fix-It, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Praying to Castiel, SPNDBCC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Dean can't believe Castiel's gone, and he's been lying about how much it hurts. But now, no more lying. He prays to Castiel, and he tells him everything he's feeling.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel
Series: #SPNDBCC [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038180
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	Love Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> God, I've written so many confession scenes with them in the past month that I didn't even know if I'd be able to do this, but somehow, the words still came out of me. I guess I could write Dean confessing his love to Cas in a million different ways and never get tired of it.
> 
> Written for day 8 of #SPNDBCC on tumblr by @foundfamily4eva

The lamp in Dean’s room glowed dimly; probably needed a new bulb. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

He’d tried to tell himself that he was over it, that he was _okay_ , and he was even telling Sam that. But he wasn’t okay. Dean was so very far from okay that the word didn’t even come into his vocabulary. If someone drew a line, with okay being somewhere in the middle, and the worst being off to the left, he’d have gotten to the end of the line, fallen off of it, and then plummeted.

Really, he had plummeted.

He was still falling.

He knelt before his bed, hands clasped together like someone would to pray, and he looked up.

How to do this? How to start this? Dean didn’t know if there was any way. Those words were just stuck inside of him, like they were hot-glued to his insides and if they were ripped off, they’d rip him too. His heart would bleed.

But shouldn’t he at least try? Didn’t the angel who’d sacrificed for him deserve that much?

Dean tried taking in a deep breath, and it was already shaky. The grief in him was so fresh it was as if he’d been shot by a bullet, and now it wouldn’t come out. Like it had pulverized his bones. His eyes lined with tears.

“Cas…” Dean tried to begin, voice breaking on the word. “Cas, I don’t know—I don’t know if you can hear me. You probably… You probably can’t. I want to think you’re in Heaven, you know? Or that you’re still on Earth, and you went away somewhere, and you’re—and you’re gonna come back.” Dean paused, sniffling, having to compose himself. It didn’t seem to work. A tear rolled down his cheek. “I miss you, man,” he went on. “Every day without you… it’s like Hell all over again, and I just keep thinking, ‘No, no, he’s gonna come back. He’s gonna raise you out of this dark place.’ That’s what you’ve done for me, you know? But now… But now I guess you’re done saving me. You finished the job. You saved me one last time.

“And Cas…” The words caught in his throat. He swallowed roughly. As he blinked, more tears spilled free, rolling down his cheeks to his chin, where they dripped off to patter and soak into his shirt. “Cas, I miss you. And I know — I _know_ — I probably just sound like some ungrateful, whiny, piece of crap. But I can’t help it, man. I miss you every damn day, every damn _second_. I miss you—I miss you when I get up in the morning, when I get dressed, hell, even when I _shower_. I miss you with every bite of food I eat, with everything that I read and see and do. I miss you when I go to bed at night, when I—when I wake up, still crying because you’re not here.

“Cas, you’re everything to me. And I’m sorry…” His throat ached, and he had to cut himself off. If he didn’t close his mouth he was going to start sobbing. Dean held his breath. Tears fell. His heart was cut open, like a medical examiner was trying to figure out the cause of death.

_CDeath: Damaged heart. Signs point to there being previous damage before death. Conditions were most likely chronic._

Chronic indeed. Dean had always hurt, ever since his mom had died. He’d hurt from that loss, and hurt because of Dad, and hurt because he’d had to take care of Sammy. He’d hurt from the hunting, and losing people over, and over, and _over_ again. Now Cas, Cas was the final straw. The last piece to the puzzle that had to be brushed away for it to be completely broken.

A sob did leave him now, and his bottom lip trembled. Then, he found the courage to go on, “I’m sorry I never told you that. I’m sorry I—I never told you to stay. I just… I let you go. And I hate myself for doing that. I shouldn’t have hurt you. You shouldn’t have had to feel that way.

“But even then, you saved me. I don’t know why. And yeah, I know—I know what you… what you said. But… how? After all I did to you, you still felt that way? Cas, that is either the dumbest thing or the most powerful thing I have ever heard of.

“Maybe dumb,” he said with a sad smile, a sound leaving him that might have been a laugh. “We were a couple of dumbasses anyway, weren’t we?”

He licked his lips, mouth suddenly too dry. Blood rushed in his ears, and his damaged heart pounded with a deep agony he would never be able to comprehend.

“Cas, those times I let you go. I… It shouldn’t have been like that. I should’ve been there for you like you were for me. And not just ‘cause—not just ‘cause of how you felt, but because… because of how _I_ felt.

“I’m sorry I never got the chance to tell you. You know, for years, part of me just thought an angel could never feel the same way, you know? You’re _literally_ a different being than me, a different entity. Or at least… you were. Now you’re—” He cut himself off, then went on, letting his words fall out of him in a different direction, “The things I felt, I didn’t know what they were at first. ‘Cause of the hunting life, ‘cause of my dad, ‘cause of all of it, I just… I didn’t know who I was. And you helped me find out, Cas. You helped me learn that. You did so much for me. God, you did so damn much. And I wish… I wish you were here, so I can—so I can say... _thank you_. Because the way you made me feel, it was something I’d never felt before, something I’d always tried to feel.

“And I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to look at it, because how could I when I thought you couldn’t love me back? How could I when everyone around me _dies_? How could I when… when I didn’t even like who I was?

“And, I gotta be honest, I’m trying, Cas. I’m really trying here, to make your sacrifice worth it, to tell myself that your death won’t be in vain. And I just… I don’t know how. It’s like there’s a hole in me, and it—and it’s eating everything I am, everything I ever wanted to be. Because you’re not here.

“You’re not here, when you should be, when you should’ve heard me say everything I’ve had stuck in me for years. I gotta admit, even now with praying, I’m not sure I can do it. Maybe ‘cause you can’t hear me, or maybe ‘cause… I don’t want to hear myself. I have to though, you know, man? I have to. You deserved that much, and I _truly_ don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, you deserve these words.

“Cas, I… Cas, I _love you_.” Dean cried more when those words left his mouth, and he all but choked on his sob, everything in him tearing apart. “And I don’t know how to stop. So please, just... hear me. Somehow. In some way. Please hear me.”

Dean wiped his tears away, looking up, and he wished more than anything that he would feel a hand on his shoulder, or hear Cas’ wings.

There was silence, and Dean was left untouched, empty.

“Well, that’s about all I got to say. So, uh… good talk. I miss you.”

Dean kissed his palm, and then raised it upwards, wanting some entity out there to know how much he loved Castiel.

Then, the familiar rustle of wings that he hadn’t heard in years met his ears, and he didn’t even dare to hope.

A hand rested on his shoulder.

Dean turned, eyes still wet with tears, heart still thumping furiously, not even wanting to believe it, because if he believed it he would break, if he believed it he would completely shatter and turn into a fine dust that’d be blown away on an unforgiving stormy wind.

“Cas?” he asked, voice broken and choked up.

The angel — _his_ angel — smiled. His true love.

“Hello, Dean.”


End file.
